by C. C. Morian
Which is what it was, and wasn’t. Janet was having a drink, but not just with a friend, it was with an old friend.
A man who she had kissed. A man she had been naked with. A man she had slept with.
A man who had fucked her.
Unless he married a virgin, almost every man who’s had a girlfriend or a wife knows this feeling, that other men had been with the woman he loves before him. Of course we all know this. I’d been with women before Janet.
But there’s always the question, were those other men better? Did they do more for her than I can? Did she ever think about them?
In Janet’s case, I knew the answer. She did.
I trusted her. I loved her. But still I wondered about how well I completely satisfied her. About whether her night out would bring back memories she had hidden away, repressed. What would she do tonight? Would she come home at all?
I had given her my permission to do whatever she wanted. Not that I had power over her, it was her life. She could leave me at any time. Yet I’d seen no evidence of her wanting to do that, even after her confession that she fantasized about Brad, about other men.
If anything, I had been the one who had instigated this, who had lit the fuse. The fact that it turned me on had only made the spark rush faster toward the gunpowder.
I’d never been so conflicted in my life. I wanted her to come home, to say she’d had a drink, only a drink. She’d tease me, and that would be it. We’d have a good laugh.
Yet I also yearned for her to do more. How much more, I wasn’t sure. In my fantasies, she did do more, much more. But would I want to hear that my fantasies had become her reality?
It would be our reality too.
I tried to keep busy, but couldn’t focus on my work. I had to do something, otherwise I’d go nuts. Or end up masturbating myself raw.
I thought about going to a movie, get out of the house. But dreaded missing Janet when she came back.
Or my returning after three hours and not finding her home.
Instead I worked out. We had a small home gym, I hit the weights hard. Did pushups until my shoulders creaked. Did situps until my stomach burned.
Every exercise incredibly difficult due to my raging erection.
My wife was with another man.
What were they doing?
I had made it though the first hour with arousing thoughts of Janet and Brad having drinks, hearing them flirt. By the second hour I was having second thoughts.
I took a really fast shower, the bathroom door open in case Janet came back. Alone with my thoughts in the shower stall, I lost control. I broke my promise to myself not to masturbate, jerking myself off in the shower, coming so fast, shooting jets that even the powerful water could not overcome.
Downstairs, I turned on the TV, nothing registering, not even a good baseball game.
More than once my fingers hovered over my phone, fighting the urge to call Janet.
What stopped me was not wanting to embarrass her. Not wanting her to have to face Brad as he sniffed, “Is that your husband checking up on you?”
When my phone beeped with a text I jumped. It was from Janet. Just three words. “Everything is fine.”
What the hell did that mean? That she was okay? That we were fine? Was that all she had time to write?
I’m not sure if I felt better or worse after hearing from her.
By the third hour, I was worried stiff. Not for her safety, Janet could take care of herself, she was a strong woman. Although Brad had looked pretty strong himself.
Every fifteen minutes I did a complete circuit of the house, pacing back and forth wasn’t good enough. I walked through every room. Except our bedroom, I just couldn’t go in there yet. Just the thought of the bed gave me shivers. Was Janet in a bed right now? Could she really be simply having drinks for almost three full hours?
Of course she can, I thought. I’d done it myself, and I wasn’t much of a party guy. Janet had spent that much time catching up with her girlfriends. And that time when she’d been out with some out of town friends from college. Just old friends getting together.
Old friends.
With each pass around the house, I ended up closer and closer to the front door. By one in the morning, I was standing in the foyer.
And finally, blissfully, Janet was back. Not only had I heard her car, but I could see the door knob turn, because I had been staring at it for thirty minutes.
Janet started when she saw me, like a girl being caught out past curfew by her father, trying to sneak back into the house.
I must have looked like a wild man, standing there, my eyes wide, searching her for anything—different. I immediately noticed her flushed cheeks. Her hair—not exactly unruly, but it had been messed up, perhaps quickly rebrushed.
For long moments we just stood there, staring at each other, my hands clenching and unclenching, hers wrapped tightly around the strap of her purse, her legs and feet close together, almost prim.
I realized this might be as hard for her as it was for me, so I tried to break the tension. “Everything was fine?” Quoting her text.
“I think so,” she whispered. “I hope so.”
My voice shook. “Do you still love me?”
The look on her face made my heart heave. “Oh, Mason, of course I do.”
That was all I needed to hear, at least for now. I took three quick steps to her, reaching for her, my lips seeking hers.
Janet turned her face away.
I froze, confused, my arms already around her, my mouth inches from her face. She loved me, but she wouldn’t kiss me?
Then her arms were around me, her purse dropping to the floor, her head pressing into my neck. The most important embrace I’d ever experienced, the best hug of my life.
I gently lifted her face to look at me. Her eyes were—a mix of emotions. Alive, but complex, a swirl. I needed to make sure she was back with me, I needed to show her I loved her, a hug wasn’t enough. I tried to kiss her again.
And again Janet turned away.
“Why won’t you let me kiss you?”
Her head still turned, she said, “Do you still love me?”
“You know I do.”
“No matter what?”
“No matter what. Let me prove it to you. Let me kiss you.”
Janet turned to meet my eyes, but not my lips. “I can’t. I haven’t brushed my teeth.”
I gulped, the implications of that so desperately clear. My stomach heaved, but my cock, which had gone limp hours ago, leapt to life, beyond my control. As if it ever could be.
“Did he—.” Why couldn’t I say it? I’d certainly been thinking about it. I’d practically forced Janet to think about it. To put herself in a position where it might happen.
If we couldn’t talk about this we’d never be able to talk about anything. “Did he come in your mouth?” I asked, as calmly as I could, like asking about the weather. Except it wasn’t rain I was asking about, it was a typhoon.
“No, I wouldn’t kiss you if he had done that, but—”
“But what?” I couldn’t wait for an answer, I pressed my mouth against hers, feeling her resistance, not because she didn’t want to kiss me, but because she did. I don’t think I would have wanted to kiss her, but she’d said Brad hadn’t. . .I kept my mouth on hers. She didn’t turn away, her fingers tightened on my arms, she was waiting, waiting. . .
I gave it to her. I had to practically force my tongue into her mouth, overcoming her resolve, gaining confidence it was what she wanted when she moaned.
Her mouth was full of it, the earthly taste of sex. My mind recoiled, yet my mouth, like my cock, had a will of its own, exploring her mouth, wanting more.
Janet’s fingers dug into my shoulders, into my back, pulling me closer, her tongue dancing with mine, relishing the sharing of her fluids, proud of them.
I pushed her against the door, pressing. “I thought you said he didn’t come in your mouth. I can taste something. . .
”
“That was after,” she admitted.
“After what?” I forced my knee between her legs, her heels sliding on the tile, at my mercy. “Did you make him come?”
Janet wrapped her legs around mine, precarious, trusting me to hold her up. “I did,” she whispered.
“How? What did you do?” Not an accusation, a pleading for the details.
“We were in the hotel room—”
I wanted to hear the story, but I couldn’t help but interrupt. “He had a hotel room? He was expecting you to be with him?” Pompous asshole, I was thinking.
“It wasn’t him—I got the room.”
Her words sent a renewed jolt through me, shifting my attention away from Brad. It should have made me angry at her, or disappointed, her getting a room to be with another man.
Instead, my cock sought her crotch through her dress.
“Why did you get the room and not him? Didn’t he want you?” Now I was mad at Brad again. Was I sick, angry at a man for not wanting my wife?
“Not at first. He wanted proof—that I wanted to be with him. He said he never slept with married women.”
“And?”
Janet smiled for the first time since she had come home. “He said I was so hot he broke his rule.”
“Is that when you—”
“That was later. Before I got the room, I made the first move. I kissed him.”
“Before?”
“In the bar.”
I groaned, not even able to imagine what that might have been like, what it would have felt like if I had been there. Just hearing about it was almost too much.
“In public?”
“Like this.” Janet pressed against my lips, and I unconsciously met her kiss. “No,” she said. “Don’t kiss me back.”
I was confused, but I did what she said, squeezing my lips together.
“That’s what he did,” she said. “Then I did this.”
She kissed me again, her tongue on my lips, sensual, then demanding. I couldn’t resist any longer, I kissed her back.
“That’s what he did, too,” she said, a hint of pride in her tone.
“You forced yourself on him,” I marveled. “In public.”
“Well, we were in a quiet, very private booth,” Janet’s voice was a purr. “But I’m sure anyone could see.”
“Did anything else happen there?”
“Not there. We went to the room.”
“The room that you rented.”
“I’d never done that before. Renting a room to be with a man. Men had done it for me, but I’d never been the one. It felt so—liberating. And so slutty at the same time. I bet everyone in the bar knew what I was doing.”
“They were all envious.”
“I’d like to think so.”
“I am.”
“You have me. You don’t need to envy anyone, or be jealous. Ever.”
She kissed me again. I might have been imagining it, but I still tasted—it tasted the way it did when I kissed her after putting my fingers in her pussy and then her mouth. “I’m not letting you go until you tell me the rest.”
“That could take a while.”
I ground my hips into her, making her feel my cock. “I don’t care.”
“Up against the door?”
“We could open it, if you feel more comfortable in public.”
Janet slapped my face playfully. “Keep talking like that, and I’ll skip over some important details.” She searched my face. “Speaking of which, what were you up to when I was gone?”
“What do you think?” I guided her hand to my cock.
“I thought—I hoped—you might have been touching yourself. But if you are this hard, maybe not.”
“You wanted me to be jerking off? Thinking about you and Brad?”
“Well, thinking about me.” She hesitated. “Okay, thinking about me and Brad.”
“I did.”
“Hmm. And so hard now?”
“Stop changing the subject.”
“This is the subject,” she teased, her fingers hard on my cock.
“What happened in that hotel room?”
“Well, I don’t want to ever get comparative, just like I’d never want you to compare me to another woman. But Brad’s reaction was—exactly the same as yours.”
“You made him hard?”
Janet nodded. “Very hard. We stood in the middle of the hotel room, kissing. I—I wasn’t going to do anything else with him, I really wasn’t. Even though I had got the room. Brad was playing with me, he knew I was flirting. I told him about you—about us. That I was doing it for us. And he told me he wouldn’t do anything with a married woman. But then. . .”
“What?”
“He asked me if I’d wonder, if I’d think about it, about what might have happened. If I had stopped after the kiss. And at that moment I thought about you.”
“About me?”
“What would you have said, if I had come home two hours earlier, and I told you that I had kissed Brad? That all I had done was kiss him.”
I had wondered about that myself. “I’d want to know if it had excited you.”
“And if it had? And excited you too?”
“I’d want to know if you wanted to go further. Do more.”
Janet smiled. “We do know each other, don’t we?” She kissed me gently. “So getting the room, it was just going to be one more step, something to add to the story to tell you. Something to titillate you with. I got a room with another man. I kissed him again, in the room. That was going to be the end of it.”
“It wasn’t though, was it?”
“I want to hear you say it again,” she said.
I knew what she meant. “I love you.”
“Do you need to hear me say it?”
“No. But I’ll never tire of hearing it.”
“I love you. I truly do. I was thinking how much I loved you even as I kissed Brad. Even as I felt his cock press against me, just like yours is now. Even when he—”
“When he what?”
Janet’s voice fell to a whisper. “When he said, ‘I want to touch you.’ ”
“And you let him?”
“I wasn’t asking for it, but I was already kissing him, I could feel his cock, he knows me, he knew I was excited. What would it matter, I thought, a simple touch?”
“You said it was okay? You gave him permission?”
“I just didn’t say no. I thought—I thought he would put his hand on my breasts, he’d always loved doing that. Instead he lifted up my dress, he felt my bare ass, he grabbed me. . .”
“Like this?” I forced my hand between Janet and the door, fingering her dress, dragging it up, squeezing her wonderful ass. The same ass that Brad had squeezed.
“Yes. . .he asked me why I wasn’t wearing underwear, then he felt the garters, the stockings. . .”
I slid my hand lower, I couldn’t feel the straps. “What happened to the straps?”
“He ripped them off. . .”
I moved my hand to the front of her thighs, feeling the empty clips. “Damn.”
“He’s really strong, as strong as you, maybe stronger, his hands are so big, his fingers were between my legs, I couldn’t stop him, I didn’t want to stop him, but I did, I didn’t want it to go past that.”
“You stopped him?”
“I did. And he did.”
There was something Janet wasn’t telling me. Not yet. “That was it? He stopped?”
Janet squeezed her lips together. “For a second. Then he said, ‘I just want to feel how wet you are.’ He didn’t ask me if I was wet, he knew it.”
“Just from him touching your ass?”
“And from kissing him and being in the room with him, and feeling how turned on he was.”
“So you let him?”
“I thought—I’d gone that far, I was the one who brought him to the room, I would just let him touch me, feel my wetness, and he. . .”
My fingers
groped for her pussy. “He did this?”
“Yes! He touched me, oh Mason, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself, I was so turned on!”
My fingers extended, expecting to feel her clit, and I did, but there was more, her lips were fully open, soaking wet, the way she got when she had—. “It didn’t end there, did it?”
Janet shook her head violently, her eyes wide. “Brad laughed, he said I must really want it, this was better proof than me getting the room, better than the stockings and garter and being naked under my dress, my wetness was proof of what I wanted.”
“And what did you want?”
“I—I wasn’t sure, I had only wanted to turn him on, just to have a story to tell you, to get you excited. You’re excited, aren’t you? You aren’t mad, yet?”
I kissed her softly on the cheek, then hard, flush on the lips. “That should answer your questions.”
“I’m so glad, because what he did next. . .what I did next. . .”
“What?” Thinking Brad had forced Janet to do something she didn’t want to do.
“He pushed me down on my knees.”
“He forced you?” Angry now, although most of my rage was directed through my cock.
“He just—.” Janet took my hand and put in on her shoulder. “Guided me down.”
I’d never done anything like that to Janet, never tried to make her do anything. What would I have done if I had been there, if I had seen Brad push her down? And what would have been my reaction if Janet had let him?
I pushed her shoulder down.
Janet, hesitant, yet melting with desire, just as I imagined she’d been with Brad, slid to her knees on the hard tile, her heels jammed against the door. Her voice shook. “He—he said, ‘Come on now, it will be like old times.’ ”
I gasped, a side of Janet I hadn’t seen, a strong man pushing her to her knees, my independent wife letting a man do that, no resistance at all. “I can’t believe you did that.”
“Then you won’t believe this part either.” Janet stroked my cock through my pants, kissing my erection, resting her cheek against me as she rubbed. “I still hadn’t done anything really bad, though. He’d touched me, but we still had all our clothes on, I hadn’t even touched his skin.”
“You were doing this to him though? You had your hands on him?”
“Just this. I thought that would be the end of it, I’d get him off right through his clothes. But suddenly Brad undid his pants and pushed them down, and his cock was right there, so hard, I had forgot how big he was. . .”
